Tag Archives: Prose

Mothlight

Posted on October 31, 2022 by John Biscello

It happens like that. Slow baked, sudden bubbling, no cauldron, face up in the vortex. You become days of mourning. A pall, a viscous grayish veil. You can no longer see clearly or purely. Vision pales, angel eyes gone. You … Continue reading →

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Scratch

Posted on October 31, 2022 by John Biscello

Once upon a time before people were monsters. When people didn’t eat each other. Out here we’ve got to be careful. I defected. I became fugitive singular. I defected from plural, from we. I defected so as to claim I … Continue reading →

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If God

Posted on October 20, 2022 by John Biscello

We’ve heard rumors that God doesn’t know he exists. She exists. It. Whatever the gender or genderless you get the picture. God doesn’t know there is such thing as God that he is this thing we call God this blessed … Continue reading →

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Where We Played

Posted on October 20, 2022 by John Biscello

You must remember this: the force of all things moving commingled with the ephemera of all things passing. This the spell the grail the gist of what I am after which is also after me. The stalker stalked while pursuing. … Continue reading →

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Echoes Extended

Posted on October 19, 2022 by John Biscello

Grief attends to the bones. And does so listening to the spaces between the hollows where the ghosts are held hissing where loss compounded by fractures gives rise to near distant voices crying out on behalf of all that’s gone … Continue reading →

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Process of Echoes

Posted on October 19, 2022 by John Biscello

Grief attends to the bones. And does so listening to the spaces between the hollows where the ghosts are held hissing where loss compounded by fractures gives rise to near distant voices crying out on behalf of all that’s gone … Continue reading →

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Reform

Posted on October 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Out here we fast on slimming heaps of gratitude. None of us are greedy. Everyone gets their helpings. We chow down on gratitude and then pass it along making sure everyone gets their fill. Gratitude has become our beef stock … Continue reading →

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Lot

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

We are out here on all fours panting in the sun the bleary merciless maraschino sun burning us. It has been a long while one of those spells that feels foreverish out here in these fields unseen dreaming of god … Continue reading →

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Near to Edges

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Words meant to be read aloud inside your head. A paradox yes but true. To be read aloud inside your head could be the preface the header the suggestion accompanying the texts. In this respect you may hear the music. … Continue reading →

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Proofs

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Once upon a time is a necessary mirage. Flesh born of word and bones fulfilling myth. Stories are the means to endlessness. They go on and on. We go on and on carried along by stories carrying within them the … Continue reading →

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